| |
| (For a little neighbor |
| who was dying.) |
| |
| I asked my Lord for a beautiful day |
| A kind of Indian summer day |
| It came with sunny skies of blue |
| And then He sent a cloud my way. |
| |
| I thanked Him for the sunny day |
| The sunny, warm October day |
| Then, questioned Him and wondered why |
| He sent a cloud across the sky. |
| |
| We planned to spend this lovely day |
| In a careless, fun-filled, happy way |
| Then the heart-ache of a friend |
| Cast its shadow across our way. |
| |
| Then once again I asked Him why |
| This cloud of sorrow should darken OUR day |
| "To teach you compassion", He answered me |
| "And concern for friends along the way." |
| |
| May I never pray for a perfect day |
| To thoughtlessly spend in a selfish way |
| If I can lend a helping hand |
| Or comfort my neighbor as I pray. |
